The Unearthly
by boonadducious
Summary: Everyone knew there was no such thing as vampires. However, when James T. Kirk seemingly returns from the dead, this assumption will be challenged, as well as the security of the entire Federation. Crossover with Mystery Science Theater 3000. K/S with slight S/Mc, and Joel/Mike. Warning for MPREG, dark themes.
1. Daddy-O

The flock of bats pursued, threatening to overtake James Kirk as his energy waned and the path before him became shorter. The creatures carried a blanket of darkness behind them like a sprawling net, ready to consume anything in its path.

Just as he felt the air from their wingbeats on his neck, Kirk was thrust into a hospital room in sickbay - one he knew all too well.

He could not look away even if he wanted to. Spock was lying in the bed screaming in agony. Spock's body started mutating and shifting in unnatural ways, causing fear to practically seep from Kirk's pores.

Bones was nowhere to be found. Nurse Chapel was weeping in the corner. He was paralyzed, stuck in stasis and forced to watch as his friend's body became a hideous monster.

"Jim," came the last audible sound before the mouth disappeared. His friend - his best friend - was wasting away, and there was nothing he could do. All the power at his fingertips and he was forced to watch his friend die.

"Spock!" Kirk shouted once he had his voice back. His eyes were wide open and found himself not in sickbay, but in an officer's quarters. He was soaked in his own sweat and gasping for breath, trying to ease his racing heart and bring his mind back into reality. Spock was alive and well. The spore had been cured before there was any permanent damage. Still, his friend had almost died, and although it had happened many times in the past, it never got easier. If anything, it got twice as hard each time, because it could be the time when their luck ran out.

Kirk ran fingers through his hair, only just realizing how soaked he really was. He might as well have jumped in the swimming pool. Judging by the stickiness, he had been sweating for a while. He now noticed the room was a good five degrees warmer than he was used to. Why would he do that? Who could sleep in this oppressive heat?

Kirk's heart started racing again. He knew exactly who could.

For the first time, he noticed the red curtains and the crackling fire pot which signified Spock's quarters. He also knew he was naked - a state he never woke in unless he had a bed partner the night before. Vague memories started coming back of a desperation to be with his friend after almost losing him mere hours before. Then there was sharing a drink, getting drunk, kissing, grabbing, making love.

Oh shit.

Kirk looked immediately to his side to see the other end of the bed was empty. The faint smell of sex in the air was present. His cock definitely had an oily coating, as if it had been lubed recently.

Oh shitty fucking shit.

He put his head in his hands and let out an audible groan. He had done it again. He had ruined yet another friendship with sex. Even if he had preferred men over women, he knew he and Spock could never be anything. They were both married to their work. Kirk was madly in love with a Silver Lady. Spock only had sex once every seven years - unless drunk, apparently. They were friends - practically brothers. They had one of the best working relationships in the fleet. They could practically read each others thoughts, even without the aid of telepathy. Spock's friendship was the most important thing in the world to him.

Now that was all gone - shot to hell by one night of one stupid night of passion.

Kirk jumped when he heard movement in the adjacent living area. He glanced at the chronometer and saw it was a good forty-five minutes before shift started. Of course Spock would be up and headed for work despite being near death a mere thirty-six hours earlier.

"Are you awake, Jim?"

Spock sounded relaxed. Too relaxed. Was he not freaking out, too? He had to be, but was hiding it better. Kirk knew Spock well. They had to have thought the same things about this night.

Kirk found his discarded clothes and started pulling them on. He tried to not be so quick that his desperation to leave was obvious, but he knew he was failing.

Spock emerged from behind the divider fully dressed in uniform. God, he even looked relaxed. Even in his most tightly controlled moments, there was at least some hint of tension, but not now. It was as if the captain being naked in his bed was the most natural thing in the world.

"I apologize for not being present when you woke, Jim," Spock said. "I know it is customary on Earth to do so, but I needed to get an early start. I must complete logs on the spore I contracted, as well as Dr. McCoy's antidote. I am the logical choice to do so since I had the most intimate encounter with it."

Why did he have to say intimate encounter? Kirk thought as he winced.

"No harm done, Mr, Spock," Kirk said, immediately hating himself for using such a formal name. This situation called for anything but formality, as mistaken as it was. Although his eyes were not on his first officer, he could tell he was being scrutinized and assessed by the other man. Whatever test Spock was currently placing on him, he was surely failing.

Kirk finally looked his friend in the eye and decided to rip off the band-aid. After all, Spock clearly did not intend to pretend this never happened. "I'm...sorry about last night. I'm not totally sure what I did, which is why I never get drunk. I guess I went a little crazy when I thought you were dying. The thought of using...er...losing you...dammit."

He knew he was blubbering. This should not have been so hard. He had done this many times before.

But not with Spock.

"The point is I should not have slept with you. It was a mistake. We are officers on a starship, as well as friends. We're heterosexual men who should have gotten random experimentation out of our system. I know you're probably thinking the same thing, but in the interest of our friendship and professional relationship, it needs to be said aloud."

Kirk did not know exactly what he expected, but it was along the lines of Spock giving a detailed logical explanation of how human emotionalism could lead to such things, or how fraternization between officers could not happen, or how the spore made him a bit crazy as well.

He did not expect hurt.

The facial expression lasted a fraction of a second, but it was unmistakable. He had hurt Spock with his words. Did Kirk not know his First Officer as well as he thought he did? Did Spock...have real feelings for him? Was that why he was so relaxed? Had he finally released built up sexual tension he had been keeping tightly controlled for years?

Damn it all to the ninth circle of hell, right into Lucifer's fucking mouth.

The stoic Vulcan features returned immediately, although the relaxation was now gone, further confirming Kirk's fears. "Understood, Captain. I agree it would be a mistake to undertake again."

It was not said, but Kirk heard it loud and clear from body language: Am I now one of your conquests, Jim? A notch on your bedpost? I thought I was more to you than that.

This was not supposed to happen, Kirk would have said, Spock was never supposed to be just another one he loved and left. He was the solid object in his life he counted on more than he cared to admit. However, Spock would never admit any hurt he felt. Sure, Kirk could goad it out of him, but this would only cause a further retreat into that insufferable Vulcan facade. He could not handle having to start from scratch with his friend, especially after all they had been through. As things stood now, he might already have to do that.

"I'm really sorry, Spock," Kirk said, now fully clothed and standing.

"No need to apologize, Captain."

"Spock, we're off duty. It's Jim. Please, I...need to know we're okay."

The other man paused, and looked to the ground. "I am afraid I will not be able to accompany you in your exploration of Alpha Virginis II. I will likely be immersed in the logs for the remainder of the day."

"So I'll take that as a no," Kirk sighed, showing a little disdain. "You know, Spock, I thought our relationship was good enough you were able to actually talk to me. Clearly, I've hurt you."

"I am a Vulcan. Your arguments were logical and therefore acceptable. There is no reason for hurt, so there was none."

"Bullshit!" Kirk said, abandoning any care he would have taken. How could he be calm when Spock was being so maddening? "I can't lose what we have, Spock. I'll fight to the bitter end to get back whatever we lost last night." He walked up to Spock and grabbed his forearms, making the other man visibly flinch. Before Kirk could get a word out, Spock shook out of his grip.

"Captain, it is time you abandon the notion you can fix all things." The words were delivered so coldly, Kirk felt the chill even in this warm room. Before he could get over his shock, Spock was out the door.

For the first time in years, Kirk punched a wall. The wall did not give, but a wave of pain shot though his arm. Based on the throb on his knuckles, he must have broken his hand. He would have to get his bones reset before he went down to the planet today. Between that and showering off the copious sweat, he would be able to avoid the rest of the ship until then. He knew he would have to get to sickbay within the next half hour in order to avoid Bones, who would know something was wrong immediately. Kirk did not feel like rehashing the latest horror his uncaring dick had unleashed.

Kirk rushed out the door, looking forward to the boring survey mission awaiting him.

oOOOo

"The damage was on the cusp of being irreversible, and making noticeable changes to my physiology which would have inevitably killed me. However, the genetic therapy Dr. McCoy discovered restored the use of my vital organs and neutralized any further effect the spore might have had. Make note to utilize this treatment should any other being with Vulcan physiology encounter this spore. I will be under close observation for the next two months to ensure there was no other effect which has not been detected yet. For now, thanks to the ingenuity of our Chief Medical Officer, I am fully recovered. End entry."

Spock reluctantly shut off the recording device which rested in his lab. Logging his ordeal should have taken more time, but it barely filled two hours. He expected to avoid the bridge - specifically his Captain - for the remainder of the day. Although the landing party had been gone for only twenty-seven point two minutes, the chair still would have an illogical effect on him - as it always did when Kirk was away. There was always the unacknowledged fear he would be forced to occupy the chair permanently sometime soon.

Logically, he knew he could not avoid the bridge all day. He had told a minor untruth to the captain this morning. There was nothing so pressing to prevent him from taking the conn in Jim's absence.

"Jim," Spock breathed, letting a flicker of emotion show in his features as he said the name. While his friend clearly had only vague recollection of the events last night, Spock remembered them vividly. He recalled every touch, every breath, every surge of pleasure he experienced with his intoxicated captain. The only moments not recalled completely were those of actual intercourse, likely because of the overwhelming pleasure. True, he had indulged in some alcohol of his own which helped lower his inhibitions, but not nearly enough to blame his willingness to surrender on the intoxicant.

Spock truly thought what they had was real, but now he recognized it as the shameful state of wishful thinking. Well, maybe it was not entirely so. His captain had confessed so much to him last night. With rare tears in his eyes, he admitted how dependent he was on his First, and how he could not fathom living without him. He had initiated intimate contact, and Spock responded.

Somehow, this led Spock to believe the feelings would overlap. Never mind Jim's first emotional instinct always involved sex, or that love was never mentioned in his speech. There was still hope that the feelings which had grown and blossomed into a nearly uncontrollable beast over the years would finally be reciprocated.

How wrong he was. Jim loved women. He made this clear on many occasions. He also regretted what had happened between them. Jim had not wanted to hurt him, Spock knew this. He had also not wanted to sleep with him either. Yet Spock reacted like Jim somehow planned to rip his heart out of his chest (Spock balked at the human idiom the moment it crossed his mind). Kirk had been genuinely worried their friendship was ruined, and Spock played right into those fears.

This irrational anger at his captain should not exist. Anger was always a secondary emotion, and in this case it likely stemmed from embarrassment. Although Jim had seen him at his worst, there was still a sense of shame in letting his shields fall and coldly reacting to Jim's pleas. First and foremost, they had to keep their working relationship. No matter what, an understanding had to be reached. Jim would never hurt him intentionally. Of course, he never meant to hurt anyone intentionally, particularly the multitude of women he left in his wake. Whether it was a product of nature or simple ignorance, the hurt was not changed or erased.

Then again, an admission of hurt would also be an admission of feelings. Spock hated the romantic notions he harbored for Jim. The last time he allowed this to happen was with with T'Pris on Pike's Enterprise. His feelings led to carelessness which ultimately led to her death. He had been so judicious to not let his emotions get out of control again - until Jim came along. After their first mind meld in the line of duty, he was lost.

A glance at the chronometer told Spock he had been thinking for more than fifteen minutes, and he still did not know what to say to Jim. Pretending like their encounter had never happened seemed to be the easier course, but it would be more difficult in the long term. There were still five months left in their mission, and their relationship needed to at least survive that long. Although he knew he was waxing sentimental, Spock was not willing to throw away a close relationship as if the years building it had never occurred. His friendship with his captain was the most meaningful and fulfilling aspect of his life. To sacrifice such a satisfactory relationship because of some dainty, unreciprocated feelings was illogical.

The com whistle sounded. Thinking he had found another distraction, he opened the channel.

"Spock here."

"Commander," Uhura said, sounding grave. Spock's heartbeat sped. There were few things which could cause her lively voice to lose it's luster. Something was terribly wrong.

oOOOo

Of the four who had gone on the landing party, only two had returned. They had split up to investigate the mineral deposits of the planet. Dr. Burrows, a geologist, led one party and Kirk led the other. Each were accompanied by a security guard. Only ten minutes after their split, Dr. Burrows was called on his communicator by Kirk's security detail, who sounded panicked before the line cut. By the time they made it to the designated coordinates, the other security officer's body was lying in pieces - every drop of blood gone - and Kirk's gold command tunic was lying tattered and covered in blood.

They beamed the pair up immediately, and scanned the entire planet for life signs. There was nothing. No sign of the creatures - likely unidentified hemovores - who did this, and no sign of the missing Captain. Study of the security chief's body showed it was not the blood-draining entity Kirk had met twice before. Not willing to take the risk of more deaths, Spock launched a probe to search the planet's surface for any signs of life. Again, they found nothing.

After sweeping the planet a fourth time and still finding no sign of humanoid life, Spock abandoned the search. Captain James Kirk was gone.

oOOOo

The hours of exhausting searches and even more of reports to the Admirality were over, and the aftermath had begun. Spock returned to his quarters with shields worthy of a fine military base. Once the doors closed, however, they fell as if made of shattered glass. The Vulcan collapsed in his chair with a heart clenching to the point of physical pain. Tears threatened to escape, but he would not allow them.

His best friend was gone. No, Jim was so much more than a friend. The romantic notions proved this. Now, Spock would never be able to reconcile with him, nor could he prove how the feelings he harbored went beyond sexual love. The Ancient Greek Terrans had a word called agape, which spoke of the unconditional, powerful love which transcended all reason. This was the only way Spock could describe the hurricane within. Jim was everything - the light in his life. Now it was gone forever.

It had happened again. He let a person he cared for get away from his protection and he died. It might have been somewhat bearable if his dismissal had not been out of anger and shame. Spock should not have been so petty. He should have expected Jim's rejection and continued their friendship. He should have never copulated with his captain. He should never have let himself love again. Whenever he strayed from the Vulcan way, only calamity was the result.

When the bell on his door sounded, Spock wanted nothing more than to ignore it. However, he knew there was only one person who would have the courage to come to his door so soon after this tragedy.

"Come," Spock said, allowing Dr. McCoy to enter his quarters with a bottle of Saurian brandy and a piece of chocolate cake.

"Want some company, Spock?" McCoy said as he plopped down in the chair beside the Vulcan.

Spock did not answer, so McCoy took this as an invitation to start pouring a drink. The Vulcan noticed McCoy's swollen eyes, and the hoarse tone to his voice. Although feelings for others were the source of his problems, he could not help but feel compassion for the doctor. He was not as close to McCoy as he was to Jim, but they were still fond of each other. They did not want to see the other in pain.

"Your company is always welcome, Doctor," Spock said is a soft voice. McCoy clearly caught the emotion infused in his words, because he closed his eyes and appeared to be fighting a new onslaught of tears.

"Thank you, Spock," the doctor said in return.

The two sat mostly in silence as they enjoyed each other's company. Occasionally, they exchanged stories of their exploits with the Captain, but stopped before going into too many details. McCoy eventually became so drunk he could barely stand, so Spock led him to his couch and covered him with a blanket so he could sleep off the intoxication. He looked back to his untouched piece of chocolate cake. He had never been so tempted to join McCoy's binges in their entire time together, but he knew poisoning his body in any way was not a good idea. Not right now.


	2. Manos: The Hands of Fate

"Miiiiike!"

Mike Nelson turned from trying to clasp a stubborn tunic together, happy for the diversion from trying to subdue this otherworldly clothing.

Now he saw why Betazoids were naked at all their weddings. The clothes they wore were impossible.

He looked slightly below his field of vision toward one of his mechanical friends to address any grievance he had. Mike predicted it would be yet another complaint against the many disadvantages of planet-side life. Being born and assembled on an orbiting spaceship would do that, even though the ship itself had not existed intact for centuries.

Tom Servo was a small red robot with a white dome covering the hover mechanism he used to get around. His head resembled a gumball machine - with a clear sphere where his eyes should be and a small silver beak for a mouth. His arms hung uselessly at his sides, although there had been some functionality given to them recently. His voice was deep and expressive, and always felt melodic to Mike's ears - unless he was in one of his moods.

"Mike," the small robot repeated. "Crow stole my rooster puppet again."

The human sighed. "I thought that belonged to Crow."

"No, he has a chicken puppet. Mine's a rooster."

"Is there any reason you need a puppet to meet the Betazoids?"

Tom Servo sighed, as if that was the most idiotic question he had ever heard. "We saved their planet. We don't have to impress them. I need something to do at this party."

Mike agreed. The last thing he wanted was a bored Servo...or Crow for that matter. Dangerous things happened when they were bored.

Before he could respond, his other mechanical housemate rushed into the room. Crow was far more tall and lanky than Servo. He had working arms and legs which resembled the necks of lamps. His head had a beak shaped like a bowling pin and had round, yellow eyes topped off by a curved net. His gold color always reflected the light in the living room, causing Mike to have to squint. His voice was much more high pitched, which made the human wince as he screamed his name in alarm.

"Mike! Servo's trying to take my..." He then turned to his companion and slumped in defeat. "How'd you get here first? You have no working limbs!"

"I have the moral high ground!" Servo spat.

Mike rubbed his eyes - an old habit from centuries ago when he dealt with chronic headaches - and said, "Would you guys like me to bring Joel into this?"

Servo shouted, "No!" while Crow relaxed and said, "Yeah! Bring him on!"

Mike smiled, "I guess you don't have the moral high ground after all, Servo. Crow gets to keep his chicken puppet."

Servo growled and said a multitude of obscenities while Crow jumped in glee. Mike was always amazed with how human these two acted. Since they were made from parts of the same ship and had much of the same programming, they were technically brothers. Mike was unsure of how their main purpose of sarcastically making fun of bad movies would translate to the real world, but the past years had given an interesting picture of how adaptable these beings were.

"Did someone call my name?" The other human in their entourage shouted from the bedroom.

"Mike used your name in vain!" Servo shouted. "He fancied himself King Solomon and committed a gross injustice."

"Whatever," Crow groaned.

The man in question - Joel Robinson - emerged from the room with his tunic clasped expertly in place, and unruly brown hair organized into a parted quaff. He might have been a disorganized genius in his everyday life, but he certainly knew how to clean up.

Mike could not help but grin at how handsome he looked, although it made him feel all the more stupid and self conscious over his still undone clothing. The man who had made all four of their robot friends was the smartest man he had ever known, and this sometimes led to moments of embarrassment and unworthiness.

"Looks like your having some trouble with those," Joel said with his normal subdued smile.

"Remember Joel, clothes are meant to be worn, not torn off in front of impressionable robots!" Servo shouted as he left in a huff. Crow, feeling immensely proud of himself, flopped on the couch of their guest suite. Since he clearly was not going to leave, Mike tried to control his reactions to his husband's fingers working on his clothing.

"These things are pretty much impossible," Joel said as he undid Mike's hack job and redid the clasps in the correct order.

"I see you shaved your goatee," Mike said, noticing Joel's smooth face.

"You'd think after three hundred and seventy four attempts, you'd know it doesn't work," Crow called, while flipping through the holo vid options.

Joel laughed. "I think it's interesting you're keeping track of my facial hair choices, Crow."

"Everybody's got their thing," Crow said.

Mike laughed before changing the subject. "You know who's gonna be at the reception, right? The crew of the Enterprise."

"Oh," Joel said, looking genuinely surprised. "I didn't expect that."

"Is that the one with Slab Bulkhead as the captain?" Crow asked.

Mike sighed. "No, Crow. Captain Kirk was pronounced dead two months ago. That's why I didn't think they would be here so soon after. But I guess that Spock character wants to keep on trucking."

"I've always wanted to meet a Vulcan," Joel said as he connected the last clasp and smoothed the wrinkles on Mike's suit. "I don't know why we never got the chance."

"Servo's scared of them," Crow said in a mocking voice.

"Am not!" Servo shouted back as he glided back into the room. "You're the one who ran screaming from the TGI Fridays when you saw an Andorian for the first time."

"Boys!" Joel shouted, putting an end to the potential fight. "You'd think after almost three hundred years, you would have learned to get along."

"I'd be fine if Crow wasn't such a dickweed."

"Hey, I'm not a dickweed! You're a dickweed!"

"Hey!" Joel shouted. "If you want I can call Gypsy and Cambot to get the shuttle and take you home."

They froze, knowing they were beaten. Mike dreaded the day they learned to fly in space unaided by Joel or himself. That would take a pretty major bargaining chip away from them. That and a programming change, although it had not been attempted in years.

The truth was that his two friends had matured quite a bit, although they had their moments, like now. Mike did not care if they acted immature once in a while. It was their sarcasm and humor which got him through years of being trapped in space.

Mike could feel his husband looking at him with the expression that always made him melt. Joel would never own up to telepathy, but he always seemed to know what Mike was thinking. He knew a display in front of the robots would earn only earn derision, but he did not care. He put his arm around Joel's waist and brought him in for a kiss.

"Noooo!" Crow shouted melodramatically.

"Please," Servo said in an identical tone. "Haven't we been punished enough?"

"You haven't been punished at all, as I recall," Joel said once he broke from Mike. "That's something in an easily change if you act up during this reception."

"Aww, Joel. We would never embarrass you."

"Whatever," he sighed, rubbing his eternally sleepy eyes.

oOOOo

Spock's time sense was especially potent as he sat on a bio bed in his dress uniform ready to leave for the Betazoid's First Contact Day celebration. Since they were incredibly close to becoming members of the Federation, and they had just experienced a planet-wide catastrophe, a visit from Starfleet's flagship seemed only appropriate. Despite their need for punctuality. Dr. McCoy appeared to be deliberately taking his time in bringing up the needed test results.

_Stop,_ Spock had told himself. _There is no reason Dr. McCoy would do such a thing, especially with my health on the line._

In the two months since his infection with the spore, and Kirk's subsequent disappearance, McCoy and himself had become closer friends. Unfortunately, this had the added effect of giving the doctor many more opportunities to goad the Vulcan about his health. Spock did not blame him, though. Not only were they friends, but Spock was the acting captain, and would be for the short remainder of the mission.

His illogical thinking was worrying him, as well as burgeoning physical symptoms he was unfamiliar with. The constant nausea was under control, but there were the headaches and fatigue which could not be ignored. These had not initially been symptoms of the spore, but McCoy warned him that no matter now minor and unrelated the symptoms seemed, they were important. As he was getting dressed earlier, he vomited again and nearly fainted in the bathroom. Spock knew he could not put a check-up off any longer.

The doctor was also in his dress uniform, since he was prepared to join Spock and Mr. Scott for the celebrations. As usual, McCoy had complained heartily about having to dress up and schmooze to a race of telepaths. Now he had to be extra careful with every sample he handled so his outfit did not get soiled. Spock was unsure why he had to take so many, and told him so.

"Well, if you had told me about your symptoms earlier, I might not have had to run all the tests at once."

Now, an hour later, McCoy had an odd look on his face, and was flipping through a PADD very quickly. He had just emerged from his office and would not make eye contact with his friend.

"I...um...need to examine your genitals," he said with a hesitant voice.

Spock was unclear why this was such a nerve-wrecking request. McCoy had examined his genitals before, and his senses never picked up any sexual desire in him. Still, the Vulcan undid his immaculate trousers, and allowed McCoy to do an examination.

McCoy felt along the penis, and slid behind to where his testicles would be if Spock were fully human. Then his eyes became wide.

Spock could not hide his worry. "What is it?"

"There's an opening there, Spock," the doctor sighed while ripping his gloves off.

Spock then became cognizant of other changes he had been experiencing as of late. Although the evidence was minimal, he jumped to a conclusion. "Is my gender changing?"

Despite his shock, McCoy let out a small laugh. "No, you're still very much a male, and you're gonna stay that way. Which is why what I'm about to say is so...difficult. Spock, you're pregnant."

The Vulcan could not speak. Color drained from his face. He wanted to accuse McCoy of playing a sick joke on him, but the look on the doctor's face was unmistakable. He would never play a prank like this in sickbay.

Pregnant? No, it could not be.

Then again, his sickness in the past month made more sense this way. There are a distinct softening of the skin and hair, as well as a tenderness to his chest. The matter of the tear sliding down his cheek also required explanation. Spock wiped it away quickly, hoping no more would come in its wake. He should not be crying. He was feeling nothing right now. Or was this numbness? When Jim had once described being so paralyzed by circumstance that all mental systems seemed to freeze in place, Spock was befuddled. Now he understood.

His hands shook as he slowly pulled up his pants to put them to rights. Spock redid the clasp and noticed the waistband was tighter than it had been previously. He had ignored it when he dressed earlier today, but now, every extra exertion to button his trousers was glaring.

"H-how did this happen?"

"I can't believe we missed this in our last scan two months ago," McCoy said in response. "It turns out Vulcan males start out as girls in the womb just like humans do, only the differentiation happens much later in gestation. You have a small vestigial uterus that got activated by the spore, and your internal testes have a dual ovary function now. I guess...everything looked normal from the outside...so we just didn't examine further down."

Spock opened his mouth to speak once his clothes were again in place, but nothing came. There were no words appropriate for right now. There were questions, of course, but he was at a loss of where to start. He pushed himself into a sitting position, letting his hands drift toward his stomach as if by their own volition.

Now that he was aware of what to look for, he could feel the faint flicker of a unique life underneath his palms. Even if McCoy had not told him about this life's existence, he surely would have heard it calling for it's mother within the week.

_Mother_.

Spock took a shaky breath as the word turned around in his head. He was carrying a child. A _child_. The idea such a life was being sustained by him was humbling, but also frightening. This being should not exist. Hybrids were not supposed to have children. He never thought himself capable of raising them.

"There's more," McCoy said. When he got no response, he continued. "The baby has red blood. The father is human."

There was a literal stab of pain in the Vulcan's chest. Spock knew well this baby would be mostly human. He thought to the first and last male he had been intimate with - the man he loved to this day.

"I...know," Spock whispered.

McCoy gulped and reached to put on hand on Spock's shoulder, but thought better of it and placed it on the wall by his head. "Jim?" He asked.

Spock nodded. "How did you know?"

"There are not a whole lot of human males you let get close. He's the only logical choice."

"Your logic is flawless, Doctor. We had...relations the night before he disappeared. I do not remember the details since I was somewhat...distracted, but it appears our intercourse was not anal."

McCoy rubbed his eyes, "I really don't want to know the details." The doctor's face then became sad. "Why didn't Jim tell me you were together?"

The Vulcan was brought out of his awe by the hurt coming off McCoy. "We were not. That night was the only time anything happened between us. Jim said it was a mistake, and expressed regret." He deliberately left off the harsh treatment and subsequent shunning of his captain.

McCoy's expression softened. "Did you think it was a mistake?"

"Of course it was," Spock answered awkwardly fast. "We are...were commanding officers on a Starship. He was heterosexual, and was not attracted to me. He only came to me because I had almost died, and burgeoning pheromones caused by this mutation likely caused him to be drawn to me sexually."

"I've never heard of Vulcans emitting pheromones."

Spock looked at his hands, which he could not bring himself to move from his stomach. He feared if he moved them, the child within would no longer be real. "It stands to reason my new ability to bear children brought this on."

"Except that it's completely ridiculous."

"Will you please get to your point, Doctor?"

McCoy took a deep breath, clearly schooling himself so he could be sensitive. "I will when you answer my question. Did you think it was a mistake?"

"I already answered..."

"Like hell you did."

Spock made eye contact with McCoy again, and what he saw seemed to bore into his very soul. It was a mix of understanding and scrutiny, which dared Spock to challenge.

"No," he finally said with a small voice. "I was...happy."

McCoy squinted his eyes, as if having an internal revelation. "You love him. You've loved him for a long time."

Spock simply nodded and looked back downward toward the only piece of Jim Kirk he had left. "For once, your perceptions are correct."

McCoy grinned, but then let his face fall again. "I'm sorry, Spock. You've been going through all kinds of hell over this that I couldn't even conceive." When Spock opened his mouth, the doctor interrupted. "And if you try telling me you're a Vulcan and you don't feel, I'm gonna slap you in the face."

"I was merely going to say," Spock said slowly. "I did not mean to imply you have been negligent of your duties as Chief Medical Officer - or my friend - by not knowing this information. I was the one who did not volunteer it. You have been...essential in keeping my controls in place by your support and friendship."

McCoy's eyes looked suspiciously wet, but he did not respond. He merely changed subjects.

"We're going to have to make some...decisions, Spock."

"I will not terminate," he said defensively.

"You didn't even let me say anything," the doctor said. "Although termination probably would be the best option."

Spock shook his head. He could not allow this part of Jim to die. His love would live on through this child. The sentiment was so illogical, he could not bear to say it out loud. However, his newly discovered condition made him less ashamed of his failing control. Pregnant Vulcan women are often shielded in their later months of pregnancy because the emotionalism overwhelmed them. There were medications he could take in the meantime to help, but the time would come when he would have to let his controls crumble lest he go mad. Thankfully, their mission would be over by the time this happened.

"Spock, I know those wheels in your brain are turning, so let me give you some food for thought. Male pregnancies are incredibly rare in your species, and never happen without technological intervention. We have no idea what it will do to you or the baby. You could lose it any time for all we know. Besides, you know you can't keep a child on a Starship. You would not be able to go back into space after this mission."

"What you say is logical," the Vulcan replied. "But when it comes to our children, Vulcans have been known to break with logic and follow what feels right."

McCoy sighed. "Do Vulcans believe in abortion?"

"We are very careful about our reproductive habits. Termination is not necessary except for one's life being in danger."

McCoy furrowed his brow. "I find it hard to believe there are no unwanted pregnancies on Vulcan."

"It happens occasionally, but the child is not terminated for simply being inconvenient. There are ways of caring for children Earth did not have when abortions were at their peak."

"Spock," McCoy sighed. "Your life could very well be in danger."

While scanning his body for any possible life-threatening ailments, Spock reluctantly admitted his grief over Jim distracted him to a point where he could not simultaneously monitor his bodily functions and perform his duties. That said, except for hormone fluctuations and some anemia, his body was in perfect working order. There were enough human elements in his blood to sustain the child for the moment, but he would need to start taking supplements soon.

"I am perfectly healthy, Doctor," Spock said. "If this changes, you will be the first to know. However, I will do whatever I can to keep the child, please know that."

"Jesus, Spock! I can't lose you, too!" McCoy shouted, immediately blushing in embarrassment.

Spock was unaffected by McCoy's outburst. This man had lost a person who had been his best friend and practically his brother. Lately, he had been approaching such closeness with McCoy, so the protectiveness was coming out. Clearly, the doctor did not see the child the same way Spock did. It was probably no more than a tumor to him, which was understandable considering the outcome of male pregnancies in humans. Experimentation during the Eugenics Wars proved the deadliness of the process, and despite improved technology, no one attempted again. Vulcans were a different breed, of course, but Spock was half-human. This could very well be a danger to his life, and the life of his child.

"I'm sorry," said McCoy softly. "I guess...I'm a little over cautious. It's your choice, and I shouldn't make it for you."

"We do not have to make any decisions now," Spock said as he slid off the bed. "We have more immediate matters to attend to."

"You don't have to go to the reception. Scotty and I can handle it. You just got some...difficult news."

Spock pulled his tunic down so it returned to immaculate condition. Once he stood straight, one could not even tell he received such life-changing information a few short minutes ago.

"I am the acting captain of this vessel, Doctor. I can handle myself much better with the knowledge of my condition."

McCoy nodded, appearing resigned. "Well then, we had better get going, or we're going to be late, and we all know how you are with punctuality." McCoy readied a hypo of Espex so his thoughts would not be broadcast to the entire Betazoid delegation. "I would have given you one of these, but I would have gotten a lecture about superior Vulcan shields."

Spock turned the edges of his lips upward and followed the doctor out the door. He clasping his hands tightly behind his back so they would not move to his stomach.


	3. The Starfighters

The lavish hall on Betazed resembled those on Earth in the late nineteenth century - with chandeliers and ornate wall designs making the room bright. There were several differences. Where a ballroom in a Jane Austen novel would have muted colors, these walls were adorned with bright purples, blues, and reds with a skylight overhead.

McCoy sipped his drink as he looked to the waning light, where Betazed's sun would be setting soon. As it disappeared, lights hidden behind wall hangings illuminated, making the room just as bright as before. He again scanned the room to look for Spock, who had asked him to back off - or at least the Vulcan equivalent - three times in the past two hours. McCoy did just that, but did not keep himself from looking toward his friend every few minutes.

Scotty seemed to be the only one of their trio who fit right in and cut it up with the party-goers. McCoy knew that Spock hated these parties, which was why he was nervous the Vulcan's emotional controls were not as good as he thought. So far, there were no rumblings of the pregnant male Vulcan at the party, so his mental shields seemed to be staying strong.

Pregnant. Good lord.

The word was still difficult to grasp in reference to Spock. McCoy was entering into uncharted territory. There were so many certainties in medical science, but this was one of the few cases he ever had where he would be going in blind, and that scared the hell out of him. He did not want Spock to die, and Spock did not want the baby to die. However, If his fifty years of existence had taught him anything, it was that people did not always get what they wanted.

He wondered what Jim would say if he were here. Would he be excited or petrified? McCoy thought the latter was more likely, since so many things about this situation were scary. Then again, Jim Kirk always loved a good challenge.

But not when it meant losing the life of another.

McCoy shook himself out of his reverie. It was nonsensical to be focusing on the possible reactions of his late friend while ignoring the living. Spock was probably going through hell. The faraway look in the Vulcan's eyes upon hearing the news was forever branded in his memory. He had seen that look on the faces of expectant mothers from a dozen races, but this one got to him like no other. The trembling hands gently placed on his stomach almost broke McCoy. He had never seen Spock's looks of wonder go beyond scientific curiosity before. Then, like the world's best buzzkill, he brought up the wisdom of termination. McCoy should have known not to discuss the subject, but with the unusual circumstances, it had to be said.

Even in his condition, Spock was a logical being. The father of the child was dead. The chances of the fetus surviving were not good. The circumstances of the womb's activation indicated there might be genetic defects. Even if the child was healthy, there were no babies allowed on a Starship. Spock would either have to send it to live with Amanda and Sarek, or take a dirt side post.

He was jerked out of his thoughts by something colliding with the side of his leg. He would have fallen over had he not been pushed into the side of a nearby Betazoid male. Not only did the stranger almost fall himself, but McCoy spilled his drink on him.

"Oh Jesus," McCoy said apologetically. "I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," the man said while helping him to his feet. "It was that little miscreant."

McCoy looked over to find a small red robot hovering a meter away. He appeared to be somewhat disoriented and collecting his bearings.

"Hey, I'm not finished with you!" Shouted a female voice, whose owner soon pushed her way out of the crowd and stomped toward the robot. "I may not be able to read your mind, but I know a snarky remark when I see one. Now what does 'Joe Don Baker's diet program' mean, and why does my husband look like he's on it?"

"Wow, love must have really blinded you if you don't know what I'm talking about," the robot replied. McCoy bit back a laugh. He knew he should not tolerate rudeness, especially at such an important event, but something about the look on the woman's face told him she deserved what she got.

"Why you little...I don't care if you saved our planet. I'm going to..."

"Hold on, now," McCoy said, coming up to the pair. "He nearly caused me to break my neck when he ran into me. I think I have a little more of a right to offer him a piece of my mind."

"Well, I'll have you know this little bag of bolts along and his golden friend have been making comments about the guests all night."

"All compliments, I presume."

"I assume you're being sarcastic, Doctor."

"Well, Betazoids are not exactly known for their aplomb. I'm surprised you guys have not embraced him into your circle."

The woman took a deep breath and walked slowly to the doctor. "Dr. McCoy, do you volunteer to babysit this little troublemaker?" She glanced down at the robot, who was currently huddled near McCoy's leg.

"Sure," McCoy said, breathing an internal sigh of relief. "It will keep both of us out of your hair."

The woman put a hand to her head until she realized the figure of speech. "Well Mr. Servo, I hope you are good for your new friend."

"I always am," the robot said in a fake sweet voice as the lady walked away in a huff.

"Man, I thought Betazoids were the fun kind of aliens," the robot huffed as he hovered chest-level to McCoy.

"They have their moments," McCoy replied as he turned to look the robot in the clear bubble he assumed was a head. "But we don't really use the term 'aliens' anymore."

"Hey, give me a break. I'm still getting used to this century."

McCoy smiled. "You got a name, little guy?"

"I'm not little! Take it back!" The robot shouted, immediately getting into his personal space.

McCoy put his hands up in surrender. "Okay. Okay. I take it back, tough guy."

The robot relaxed. "That's better. Tom Servo's the name. Immortal robot superhero is my game. I'm not magic, but you'll think I am when you see all my amazing robot features."

"Okay, you can show me your robot features," McCoy said with a wide grin. "But first, what exactly did you say to that guy?"

oOOOo

"Commander Spock!" Shouted the Betazoid governor, Abraxas. The skinny man with greying hair led the Vulcan away from his conversation with one of the prominent Terraforming experts and toward the collection of large round tables which were starting to be filled by guests.

The Vulcan was a bit taken aback at the suddenness of conversation shift, although he knew this was normal in Betazoid culture. How such an emotional race could stand to be telepathic was a mystery to him.

Once they arrived in a less populated area of the room, the governor said, "I apologize we have not been able to get away from the crowd. I know how Vulcans are about personal space."

Spock gave a single nod, biting down the irritation at this man waiting two Terran hours before saying something. He had been in the same situation many times before, but what he now knew to be pregnancy hormones threatened to wear out his shields. PRN medicine from Dr. McCoy helped keep many of the worst symptoms from showing themselves, but they were not gone completely.

"I realize I was remiss in introducing you to our honored guests, Mr. Spock," he continued. "Since the evening meal is close at hand, I assumed now was as good a time as any."

Spock knew the honored guests were the men who stopped a seismic disruptor from destroying the surface of the entire planet, although the details on the group were scant.

As they approached the table, Spock saw Scotty already sitting and mingling with the two men in question. They were in traditional Betazoid formal wear, though their light-colored eyes indicated they were human. One was stocky with blonde hair, while the other was thinner with brown. Next to the thin man sat a skinny gold robot who appeared to be joining the conversation with gusto. Spock had seen expressive androids before, so robots behaving in such a manner was not new to him. However, the sentience of these beings was still being debated, and he was curious how it seemed to interact so easily.

"Mike Nelson. Joel Robinson," Governor Abraxas said, getting the table's attention. "I would like to introduce you to Commander Spock, acting captain of the Enterprise."

"Did you forget to introduce Crow?" The golden robot chimed as his human companions stood.

"Well, I figured you would not be shy in introducing yourself," the governor sighed, clenching his teeth.

The brown- haired man introduced as Joel tapped Crow's chair hard with his foot before raising his hand in the ta'al salute. Mike attempted to do the same, but gave up and clasped his hands behind his back.

"It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Spock," Joel said, his body appearing to ripple with excitement.

Spock mirrored his gesture. "Likewise. I have heard much of your exploits on this planet. You have been the primary topic in at least 90.4 percent of the conversation I have encountered tonight."

"Oh, their exploits go beyond Betazed," Abraxas said as he motioned Spock to sit down. The Vulcan was silently grateful since he was growing more fatigued as the night wore on.

"These men claim to be hundreds of years old," the governor continued as he turned to leave. "I figured a Vulcan of your stature would be fascinated by such men."

"What do you mean 'claim?'" The robot called after the departing politician.

"Crow," Mike and Joel said simultaneously as they blushed.

Scotty laughed. "The bot's got spunk, lads."

Spock raised an eyebrow as the robot shook his head. "Well, I'm just a little tired of being second guessed is all. You'd think a couple guys walking into a party with talking robots and a gaggle of otherworldly powers would lead to some trust."

"You forget that the Betazoids are telepaths," Spock said. "They likely know you are telling the truth. Not to mention you are speaking in a pre-Warp English which is slipping by the universal translator."

"He knows," Mike said. "Crow just likes to find reasons to complain."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "This sounds like someone I know."

"Surely you're not talking about me, Mr. Spock."

The group turned to see McCoy walking toward the table and holding a smaller red robot in his arms.

"Tom Servo, where have you been?" Joel sighed.

"C'mon, Joel. You know I can't just sit and schmooze with diplomats. I'm the life of the party. Lenny here has been my wingman."

"Babysitter more like," McCoy added. "Who programmed this mouthy fire hydrant?"

"That would be him," Mike said, his thumb pointing to Joel. "Unfortunately their circuits are pretty much stuck."

Spock looked toward the robot and it gave a little jump, as if startled.

"I'm gonna...go sit by Mike," Servo said while laughing nervously.

McCoy shook his head while he took a seat between Spock and Scotty, letting Servo hover next to Mike. "Have issues with Vulcans, T...?"

"Not I'm not scared of Vulcans!" He shouted a little too fast, causing Crow to chuckle.

"Careful, Servo. They can smell fear."

"Guys," Joel said with stern looks in both directions. "I swear it's like having kids."

"Only they've been kids for almost three hundred years," Mike said.

"I am curious as to how you achieved this AI, Mr. Robinson," Spock said while scrutinizing Crow. He would have studied Servo, but the robot hid behind the table every time the Vulcan looked in his direction.

"Aye," Scotty said. "Their personalities are incredible for the timeframe you are suggesting."

"It figures you two would be focused on the robots," McCoy said. "I'm more curious about what Governor Abraxas said about your lifespans. We've seen robots before, but not many humans can live for multiple centuries."

"Doctor, from all the things we have seen in the universe, it stands to reason there are methods with which to achieve such longevity."

"Yeah, because fountains of youth are just popping up everywhere nowadays," McCoy quipped.

"Not to mention the superpowers," Scotty said. "I've worked with some seismic disruptors in my day and they're right impossible to stop once activated, especially one so powerful."

Joel gave Mike a knowing look. "I don't know if I can tell you all without giving you the whole story."

"Aw brother," Crow sighed when Servo bounced with excitement. "Can I be excused? I've heard you tell this story a million times in the past week. Why can't you just write it down like normal people?"

"It's more fun to tell it," Servo said as he hopped into Mike's lap. "Especially the many parts where my superior intellect saves the day."

Crow rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna get some more of those little pastries. I have a feeling its gonna be the only Earth food I see for a while."

"Crow, if I hear about one..."

"I know, Joel. 'Don't riff on people because people talk back.'"

"Glad to see something I said stuck, but remember that I might make you shuttle-bound indefinitely if I hear anything from you. Gypsy has been looking for a load pan cleaner."

This seemed to get Crow's attention. "Okay, Joel. Cross my motherboard, hope to short out."

Mike laughed as Crow scampered back to where the crowd had gathered. Joel playfully shoved the blonde man, saying "Don't encourage him."

"It's your fault for making him funny."

"And it's your fault the edge of the universe made it impossible for me to reprogram him."

"Aw, c'mon," Servo said. "Why would you want to reprogram us? "

"Well, it would make our story more believable for one," Mike said. "Who's gonna take us seriously with you nut-cases around?"

Spock cleared his throat to get their attention. Mike and Joel blushed, having momentarily forgotten about their guests.

"Your robots are able to consume food?" Spock said.

"Yeah," Joel said. "They didn't at first, but I kind of wanted a taste of home, you know? I made them while trapped on an orbiting spacecraft, so I was lonely and homesick. I refitted them so we could all eat meals together, just like my own family used to."

"Trapped on a spaceship?" McCoy said. "Servo told me something like that happened to you, but I thought he was making it up. He said you all were made to watch bad reel-to-reel movies?"

McCoy was grinning, expecting his new friend's tale to be an exaggeration. Then Mike said, "That's exactly what happened."

Scotty's eyebrows lifted. "That's bloody daft. Why would you be shot up into space just to watch bad movies?"

"A more interesting question," Spock said skeptically. "Why has this incident not been recorded in the annals of history?"

Joel scrunched his face, as if trying to find the right words. "The Satellite of Love - the craft we were trapped in - was made by Gizmonic Institute, then commandeered by a couple scientists who went rogue."

"Gizmonic Institute?" McCoy asked in disbelief.

"Bloody hell. They were the people responsible for the Eugenics Wars," Scotty interjected.

"They were not the only scientific institute responsible, Mr. Scott," said Spock.

"Aye, but Gizmonic led the charge. There are still thousands of experiments unaccounted for. I'm guessing this Satellite of Love is one of 'em."

"Well then," McCoy said. "I have a feeling this will be an interesting story indeed."

oOOOo

Crow was thankful for his lanky body at this moment. He weaved through party-goers like a needle through fabric. He tried to remember where the snack table was, and the crowd made the search immensely harder. As much as he loved his figure, he did wish Joel had made him taller.

At least I'm taller than Servo, he thought to himself.

He finally made it to the edge of the ballroom, and decided to follow the wall until he hit the table. Dinner was in half an hour, and he was surprised so many people were not leaving the open area.

Crow passed an archway - the one which led to the restrooms - and a sight caught his eye. A flash of green. It would not have been something he normally paid attention to when he had food on his mind, but the shade triggered something in his autonomic memory which would have initiated survival sequences if he were human. Since he was not made to survive in the cruel world, the shade only evoked curiosity.

The gold robot entered the hallway, which was thankfully devoid of people. The blob looked like it went right, so he followed. This hall led to a dead end and a couple doors lined the walls, but nothing green. Still, Crow could not stop walking. He had to make sure there was nothing, otherwise he would always be curious as to why a flash of green made him react so.

Just as he was about to turn back, an invisible force pushed him backward and he smashed against the wall. If he were not immortal, the impact might have cracked his chrome outer layer. Although he did not experience fear before, he was now. When he looked forward, he saw a familiar figure.

"D-Dr. Forrester?"

Crow was confused. This was definitely Dr. Clayton Forrester - the man who shot Joel and Mike into space and did not bat an eyelash when he set them adrift from their orbit. This was not a person who normally struck fear in Crow, but something felt different about him. Ever since the end of their Satellite, he had what he called a "spider sense," in which he had "vibes" when there was danger. This was one where he had the equivalent of a red alert flashing in his head.

Dr. Forrester was very gaunt with skin that looked grey. There were stark blue veins wrapped around his head and hands. His eyes were black orbs hidden behind the green-rimmed glasses. He looked much younger than he was when they last saw him, but this was not what surprised Crow.

This man should not be alive at all.

"Oh come now. Don't you recognize me?" He said as he gestured to himself. "You prayed for a friend and I came."

Crow's fluids ran cold. His arms trembled.

"T-timmy?"

He laughed. "You did not expect to see me again, did you?"

"I can honestly say...no," Crow said, trying desperately to hide his panic. This should not be happening. He could overcome this creature if he wanted. So why was he paralyzed with fear?

"Well, that is alright with me. It allows for the element of surprise. Now, my friends and I need a little help."

Timmy gestured toward the dead end, and Crow was taken aback by the appearance of ten figures covered by heavy velvet robes. They stood still as statues with their faces obscured, but Crow could still feel their eyes boring into him. Although he had temporarily forgotten how to use his power, there was one instinct he was able to utilize.

"Jooeeeel! Miii..."

Timmy had lurched forward and clamped Crow's beak shut, and shoved him against the wall further.

"This is the being you want to inhabit?" came a deep female voice from the gaggle of cloaked beings. Her tone was filled with disdain and disbelief. Dissension in the ranks made the group far less menacing. Timmy got an annoyed look on his face, showing he knew this.

"I have my reasons," he said in an irritated tone.

"No need to get huffy," came a melodic - and somewhat familiar - male voice from the group.

"If I recall," Timmy said, leaning further into Crow. "I was the one that brought your sorry corpses to this planet. You would not have gotten this far without me."

"I was talking to Charosh," the voice repeated.

"Pardon us for wanting to make sure we sold our souls to a good investment," came another male voice, one who sounded younger and rougher than the first. "We still don't know why a being as powerful as you needs us."

"None of you have souls," Timmy responded. "Trust me, you're better off for it."

"You will get no argument from me," said the melodic voice. "From what I understand, this robot can exert great powers. You will be closer to the universe's power than you were before. Then we can finally start."

Crow was surprised at the normality of the voices behind the robes. That said, there was a coldness about them which seemed devoid of any human qualities. He had a guess what these beings were, but this seemed unlikely. They always stayed underground, like sewer rats. If they suddenly started acting like a Satanic fraternity, it would have been a drastic shift for an ancient creature.

Then again, Timmy's presence made such a shift much more likely. Suddenly Crow started to get anxious about the hundreds of people in the ballroom.

His righteous bravery overcame his paralysis when he gathered energy in his eyes and shot a quick beam at Timmy, causing him to topple backwards. He inwardly cursed at the relatively minor effect. Even so, his foe was flustered.

"Ugh, this cursed body," he shouted. Before Crow could mount another attack, he was against the wall again and encased in a familiar green protoplasm. The shock was enough that the small robot could not react before he was once again grabbed by Timmy, causing an excruciating burn to encompass him.


	4. Overdrawn at the Memory Bank

A/N: This chapter is going to exclusively be exposition from the MST crew. I was torn on this chapter's existence, but I decided to include it and submit it at the same time as my other chapter. I normally hate having this much exposition at once so early in the story, but Mystery Science Theater 3000 is not a widely watched show, and since the main fandom of the story is Star Trek, I wanted to have everyone on the same page. Also, I wanted to insert my additions and explain why the MST characters have lasted three centuries. I have included the episodes and references, as well as videos of the appropriate host segments, at the bottom notes.

The MST mythology is not exactly sacred or sensical. After all, the theme song says, "Repeat to yourself 'it's just a show. I should really just relax.'" I tried to Trek it up a bit and make it believable, but if it appears a bit off, that's why.

I promise, after this chapter is when the plot will start revving up.

oOOOo

"I was a janitor at Gizmonic, before the Eugenics stuff happened," Joel said. "Back then, it was just a place for creative people to get together and swap ideas. I was an inventor, but I thought I could get in the door by doing menial jobs.

"Well, there was a pair of scientists who hated me - I can't really tell you why. Clayton Forrester was one of them, and the other was Lawrence Earhardt. They had reputations as being a bit unstable, which was why they were relegated to the basement. Before they were banished, though, they decided they had so something to prove and kidnapped me. They shoved me in an experimental satellite and shot me into orbit."

"To...watch bad movies?" McCoy asked, trying to bite back a laugh.

"Focus on the word 'unstable,'" Mike interjected.

"Yeah, these two made Dr. Frankenstein look like a dainty housewife," Servo said.

"Anyway, the Institute was just starting their secretiveness I guess, because there was no effort to bring me down. I found out later that Dr. Forrester essentially made me disappear. I was stuck with no hope of escape. I was then forced to watch these crappy movies which were intended to drive me insane. Somehow, this was supposed to be parlayed into world domination, but don't ask me how.

"Predictably, I got depressed. Luckily, the ship was meant for a crew of at least five, so to make weight specifications for launch, the Mads put a bunch of random junk in all the bedrooms of the ship. With this stuff, I was able to play around and continue to invent. Soon, I was able to figure out how to use nonessential parts of the ship to make robots. My first try was an attempt to give sentience to an already built robot, in this case the camera robot the Mads recorded their experiments with. When that worked, I moved on to make Gypsy. She helped run the ship since I was not able to be five places at once. Next, I decided I wanted friends to help me get through the horrible movies I was forced to watch, so I made Servo and Crow with particularly sarcastic personalities."

Servo chimed in, "Hey, is that all you're going to say about the moment we were created?"

"We don't have all night, Servo."

"Yeah, but what about the joy in your eyes when you saw our first words, or the deep existential pondering when you gave us our names, or..."

Mike clamped a hand over his small silver beak. "You can give your point of view later, Tom."

"This went on for about four years, and I cannot remember ever being more content than when I was with those robots. I did not have to work, I could constantly invent, and for the first time in my life I knew what unconditional love felt like. These robots were like my kids, and what I felt for them was beyond anything I had ever felt before. However, in the fifth year of my captivity Gypsy got it in her mind that I was about to be killed, so with Mike's help, she sent me away on an escape pod."

"I was doing temp work for Forrester and his new lacky, Frank," Mike continued. "Gypsy got my attention and I found the manual for the ship. Once Joel escaped, Forrester kidnapped me to use instead. I was not as accepting of the circumstances as Joel was. I actually had a life..."

"Yeah right," Servo muttered.

"...but by this time Gizmonics was starting to get into full Eugenics mode, so there was not much of a chance of discovering us anytime soon. They finally found his hideout and cut his power supply and money stream, essentially leaving us to fend for ourselves. We were cut off and fell through a series of wormholes until we made it to the edge of the universe."

"Such an act would be impossible," Spock interjected.

"That's what I thought, too," Joel said. "But I can attest that it happened. Otherwise, we would be dead by now."

"We'll get to that later," Mike said. "We became entities of pure consciousness at the edge, at least until a mysterious force pulled us back to what I thought was Earth. I found out later it was a parallel dimension where the Satellite got stuck. Since we were connected to the ship, the robots and I were pulled in with it. We orbited around a world inhabited by apes, then we bounced around the galaxy for the next few months..."

"Are you gonna mention how you blew up three planets, Mike?"

The blonde man grimaced. "For the last time, the first two were not my fault. The third one...well...I didn't know I had powers then."

"That galactic court judge guy said you did."

"He was an idiot...in an omnipotent way. Besides, your deposition didn't help."

Joel cleared his throat, pulling Mike back to the present. "Anyway, we did eventually make it back to Earth in 1998, but this time Dr. Forrester's mother was keeping us captive. I'm not really sure why, but I'm fine with the 'she's crazy' explanation.

"Eventually, the ship did crash to Earth, and all of us survived. Again, we had no idea how or why this happened, but we were grateful. After making it to the Midwest, we managed to look up Joel."

"I landed in Australia when I escaped. I was able to get back to America while touring with a band doing pyrotechnics. Once I did, I realized Gizmonics had gone off the deep end, and everyone thought I was dead. This was around the end of 1993."

"Right before the start of the first Eugenics war in Asia," McCoy said.

"It turns out some of the worst super men came out of my former workplace, and there were already open calls for genetic control. Still, I got to make a better life for myself. I managed a hot fish shop, and got an apartment. That said, I was getting depressed again. I felt like a different person after my stint on the Satellite of Love, and I was homesick for my robots. I couldn't tell anyone because people would think I was crazy. Instead of dealing with my feelings, I dismissed them. I convinced myself I had gone through a sort of Stockholm Syndrome and I had imagined my contentment and love for the bots."

"You did come fix our ship for us," Mike said. "Although at the time I thought you were a cold-hearted bastard trying to keep us trapped."

"When I first got back to Minnesota, I contacted a few people at Gizmonic who left after genetics research got underway. They snuck me into Deep 13, but I didn't find anybody there. I did find some plans Dr. Forrester made to have the ship self-destruct, which I knew I had to stop. I then went into an adjacent basement and commandeered a shuttle to get me to the ship."

"And you dinna rescue them?" Scotty said.

"Like I said, I was messed up at the time, as was the world. People had war on their minds, and I didn't want my bots getting into the wrong hands. By the time the ship crashed, I was in a better place. I was glad the bots had come back into my life, although I wasn't sure how to hide them."

"Not to mention you had to deal with my state of mind," Mike said. "I was clueless as to how we survived. I also was not Joel's biggest fan. I'd come to love the robots, and his treatment of them seemed cold."

Joel continued. "Gypsy and I got together and made a company which focused on green technology. It did well at first, but once the Eugenics Wars started to heat up overseas, we got rumblings of conflict stateside. The company tanked, but we got by. Then, Gizmonics finally found us."

"We knew someone had taken the wreckage of the ship soon after we crashed," Mike said. "But we figured it was the government or something. We had no idea Gizmonics had gone mental and wanted to purge themselves of past mistakes. They might have thought our time on the ship gave us insight into their secrets or something, but for whatever reason, they wanted us gone."

Joel paused before continuing. "They set fire to the rented house we were staying in. It was there we saw Mike and the bots were not getting burned. We all got out, and they rescued me with relatively little injury."

"I was a bit freaked out, as were the robots," Mike said. "I then realized that after suffering from chronic headaches for most of my life, I had not had them since we returned from the edge of the universe. The robots also told me they had been dreaming, and they were never able to do so before. We figured out that something must have happened to us during our time as pure consciousness.

"Since Gypsy was the most powerful mind among us, we had her use meditation to access whatever power we touched out there. She found out we had a constant stream of energy from the underpinning of the universe, which essentially made us immortal and allowed us to travel around the cosmos and become pure energy whenever we wanted.

"I became excited at the prospect of becoming a superhero, but the first thing I thought of was Joel. I thought about how we could have easily lost him in that fire, and that we would live much longer than him. For some reason, that made me incredibly sad. I didn't know why until the next day."

"Gizmonic found us again. This time they brought guns. They tried to take the robots, but they used their peril to take things seriously for once and use the powers they had. It turns out Servo emitted a force field from his dome, and Crow shot energy from his eyes. We were able to fight them off, but not before I was gunned down."

Mike flinched at Joel's description. "I knew then...I couldn't let him die." He grabbed the other man's hand. "I knew then that I loved him."

"Bleach, gag me," Servo said.

"So you guys are...together?" McCoy said without judgement in his voice.

Spock tried hard to fight back a gulp. Seeing a pair of men in a relationship was having an illogical effect on him. All he could picture was him and Jim sitting in similar positions - if the universe had an ounce of compassion. Spock clenched his hands together to prevent them from touching his stomach.

"We don't exactly advertise it," Mike said. "We know how we feel, and that's all that counts."

"So I'm guessing you took Joel to the edge of the universe to save his life?" McCoy said.

"Yup," Joel said. "And I was freaking out about it, too. It took me a full two weeks for me to forgive him, and to realize I loved him, too."

"Fascinating," Spock said slower than usual. Joel seemed far more shy about showing affection in public, but Mike was not afraid to look at Joel with transparency. Again, his heart clenched thinking of what he would never have.

"So, that's when it all began," Joel said. "I'm sure we could have accessed vast powers, but we chose not to open that can of worms. Who knows what would have happened to our family then? Because of our reluctance, we couldn't stop the Eugenics Wars, but we were able to save several million lives. As history went on, we moved from conflict to conflict doing what we could with the lives we had been given."

McCoy nodded, and then looked back and forth to his colleagues.

"Well, that is certainly an incredible story, but I'm a bit skeptical."

"Most people are," Mike sighed. "Not that we blame them. We like our anonymity, but in this day and age, we are a bit tired of hiding. This incident on Betazed was the beginning of our 'coming out party.'"

"Yeah," Joel said. "We're comfortable enough in ourselves and our powers that we can be open about what happened to us and do some good. We are okay with saying we're not gods, and that we can't raise the dead or perform miracles. We're just one of the few powerful beings in the universe who want to devote themselves to benevolence."

"Sounds great," Scotty said. "But there is an ol' Earth saying that says 'Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.' You might want te' help people now, but it could easily get away form ye."

"Trust me," Joel said. "We've thought about that many times. We all love and trust each other enough for it not to go badly."

"I can see such feelings are genuine," Spock said. "However, I must join Dr. McCoy's skepticism."

"Wow, I think hell just froze over," McCoy laughed.

"I am not doubting your merit or honor. The governor says you are not lying and have demonstrated your powers, but this is quite a fantastical story. It is not easy to believe."

"So in other words, you are doubting our merit and our honor," Mike said.

"Either that, or we're off our rockers," Joel said.

"Good news is that we put Servo to sleep," Mike commented.

Indeed, the small robot was still in Mike's lap, and making snoring sounds.

"I put that in there so I could tell the difference between sleep mode and a malfunction," Joel interjected at the confused looks of the other men.

"Well, now that we got story-time out of the way," Scotty said. "Why dinna ye tell me how you achieved AI in the twentieth century."

"At least one of us isn't totally cynical yet," McCoy said while sipping his drink.

oOOOo

A/N: Joel's escape comes from the episode "Mitchell." Those host segments are here: watch?v=GXviipvbMgw

Mike's destruction of three planets is an ongoing story from season 8, so I won't try to post all the context. The trial for the aforementioned destruction (and Servo's subsequent disposition) comes from the episode "Agent from H.A.R.M." The relevant host segment is here: watch?feature=relmfu&v=GR3UDmnTYFs

Joel meeting Mike and trying to fix the ship comes from the episode "Soultaker." The host segments are here: watch?v=mHouLb1gU18


	5. The Dead Talk Back

As Scotty spoke with Joel about robotics and artificial intelligence, their food came and Spock was able to withdraw and allow his thoughts to monopolize his awareness.

While Spock ate he finally allowed his hand to migrate to his now-flat abdomen. As he gauged the faint life signs, Spock internally smiled that his child remained content and safe within the warm womb. As of yet, he could only assess the fetus' condition by the close proximity of his hand. He looked forward to the day when he could check on her in a less conspicuous way.

Her? Spock thought, shocking himself with his choice of words. He was uncomfortable with referring to his child as "it," but he was not far enough along to differentiate the sex. The slip could have been wishful thinking on his part, although he did not think he had a preference of one gender over another.

The existence of this child was still difficult for the Vulcan to believe, but much like the fantastic story of his table-mates, the signs pointed to the truth of his condition. He could not summon any logical thought in regards to it - only warmth and excitement.

"Spock," McCoy whispered as he leaned close to the Vulcan. The man in question tensed at the concerned tone which had plagued him all night. "How're you holding up?"

Spock was brought back to reality by his friend's question. It was always a reluctant transition. Away from the world of impending motherhood was the world where he was still a male Vulcan - and where Jim Kirk was gone.

"My logic is more difficult to access than usual, but otherwise I am fine."

"You could have fooled me...with the logic thing I mean," McCoy said. "You look like yourself, except I just noticed you touch your stomach."

"I am aware of what my hand is doing, Doctor. As you know, Vulcans are far more aware of bodily processes than humans are."

"Except that you missed being...you-know-what for two months."

Spock winced and flushed green. He was just about ready to give his friend several reasons why he could have missed such a thing, but changed his mind and instead decided to lecture McCoy on discussing this subject in public. As he opened his mouth to begin, Mike interrupted him.

"Servo and I gonna go find Crow," the blonde man said. "He's been gone for way too long." McCoy and Spock nodded as man and robot left to weave through the now full tables.

"As I was about to say, Doctor," Spock whispered. "I would appreciate you not discussing my personal affairs in the company of so many telepaths."

McCoy sighed. "You're right, Spock. I'm sorry. We'll talk when we get back to the ship."

This would have left Spock relieved at any other time. However, McCoy's behavior was atypical of his usual gruff demeanor. Spock could not help but feel patronized.

"I would also appreciate if you would cease treating me like I am made of porcelain."

McCoy squared his jaw as one of the veins in his head started to throb. "I am trying to have some compassion, you green-blooded pain in the ass! Don't worry, I won't do it again."

Both soon realized the talking around them had stopped and both Scotty and Joel looked uncomfortable. Spock resumed eating his meal in silence while McCoy took a big gulp of his wine. Neither had their tempers sated. Spock tried hard to ease the surge of indignation. Scotty and Joel resumed their discussion, while the other two occupants maintained their tense silence.

Meanwhile, Mike and Servo thoroughly scanned the ballroom and found no evidence of their friend. Now it was time to move on to the rest of the building. The first door they saw led to a dark hallway with a faint burning smell wafting through. The overhead lights appeared to have exploded for some reason, and Mike was almost certain what that reason was.

"You gonna spank him, Mike?" Servo asked with glee.

"You know Crow never destroys property on purpose. That said, there are accidents, and then there are stupid accidents."

When he turned a corner, Mike nearly tripped on a something big and soft. The faint hue from the ballroom allowed him to at least make out vague humanoid features.

"Servo, check him out," Mike said as he knelt over the form. He felt for a pulse as he would on a human. There was a faint thump.

Meanwhile, Servo took Mike's signal and used his enhanced vision to find out more about this person. He still had limitations in the dark, but he could at least determine life signs.

"He's Human all right," Servo said. "However, I'm getting weird readings from him. This guy should be dead."

"Why do you say that?"

"It's kind of like when you walked away from our ship crash. There was an outside force keeping body systems alive during healing. This man looks like he had some brain trauma and his body was pushed past what it was meant to do."

Mike furrowed his brow in confusion. "So you're saying he's like us?"

In all their travels, they had never met other humans with similar connections to the powers of the universe. They had met other races which operated based on other-worldly forces, but never humans. Joel said that according to the logs from early in the current mission, the Enterprise might have encountered the same energy as they did. However, the logs said the man and woman affected by the entity became so dangerous they had to be marooned. Soon after, they were listed as dead. Their group was not dangerous, and their powers had never gotten out of control.

Servo said. "Maybe we should take him to Joel."

"If what you say is true, Joel won't have to do anything for him to be healed. We would just have to wait."

"I'm sorry, Mike, but who knows how long we'll have to wait for him to wake up? I want to ask this guy where he's from and what he's doing here. Hey, what if he's the one who put the disruptor under the surface? They said there was no way a mere mortal could have done it. I'd prefer to have a suspect so people don't start suspecting us."

"As happy as I am that your curiosity is going toward something productive, I'll have to ask you to be patient. We'll have to get this guy into the light so I can check him, but I'm scared to move him."

"I can help with that," Servo said before his domed head lit up, making a moderate light.

Mike's mouth fell open. "Tom...since when do you light up?"

"What, this? I learned how to do it last week."

"Then why didn't you use it when we first walked into the dark?"

"Oh...right...uh...I kinda forgot about it until just now." Servo let out a nervous laugh that did nothing to alleviate Mike's murderous expression.

"I'll deal with you later, right now..." Mike looked downward, and nearly was pushed over with shock when a familiar face with confused eyes met his.

"What the hell?" Servo shouted. "Dr Forrester?"

The man in question adopted a shocked face when he realized who he was talking to. His face looked younger, but the features and wardrobe were classic Forrester.

Mike wasted no time. He grabbed his former captor by the collar and violently pulled him upright. The catharsis was immediate. He had dreamed of doing this for a long time, and he assumed he would never have the chance.

"How the hell are you still alive?" Mike shouted through clenched teeth.

Dr. Forrester's glasses had fallen off in the tussle, and now stared at Mike with wide, frightened eyes.

Mike ignored the looks and slammed him against the wall. "What are you doing here? How are you like us? What the fuck did you pull?"

"Uh, Mike?" A sheepish Servo said from a distance. "I don't think he's gonna be much help to us if he's on the verge of wetting himself."

"He's scared? Good. He should be scared. He knows how much stronger I am then when he last saw me. You'd better start answering my questions, or..."

"Ugnuhh," came another voice from further into the hall.

Mike was thankful for the distraction, because he was really not good at making threats.

"Who is that?" Mike asked Forrester. There was no answer. The man looked stunned into silence, as if he had seen a ghost. Mike felt a small stab of pity for him, although it did not last long once he reminded himself of his long captivity.

"I'll check it out," Servo said as he floated toward the noise so he could shed light on the other person.

Slumped against the opposite wall was another humanoid male wrapped in a thin blanket.

He looked like he had not been outside in months with how pale he was. The most conspicuous feature, however, was the blood-red irises which seemed to absorb any light shined on them.

"Where am I?" the other man croaked.

"You're...uh...um...on Betazed."

"Betazed?" the man said pushing himself upright with effort. "I am James T. Kirk of the Federation Starship Enterprise. I demand to know how I got here, and where my ship is."

Servo was speechless, allowing his beak to hang open before regaining his composure.

"Um...Mike?"

By now, Mike realized Forrester was not going to say anything, so he let him slide to the floor. As the minutes went by, the former mad scientist appeared to slip further into catatonia. There was still a chance the whole thing was a facade, so Mike was not planning on letting Forrester out of their sight for the foreseeable future.

"What is it, Tom?" Mike huffed.

"It turns out Captain Kirk is alive...sort of."

Kirk looked taken aback. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Mike was confused until he made eye contact with their other find. Even in all the years of seeing the many miracles of the universe, he was still struck speechless at times. A legend thought dead had been found, but it did not take long for Mike to know he had not returned intact. The eyes, skin, and shiny black hair were unmistakable.

"Captain," Mike said carefully as he knelt to meet eyes with Kirk. "How do you feel right now?"

The question was met with a frown. "Why does it matter?"

"Do you feel cold?" Kirk nodded. "Are you hungry, but not really thinking of food?" Kirk nodded again.

"What's going on? What have you done to me?"

Servo sighed. "We don't know how to tell you this sir, so I'm just gonna come out with it. You're a vampire."

oOOOo

The technical conversation between Scotty and Joel had ventured into the logistics of current warp mechanics, and if there could ever be intergalactic travel in the near future. Spock made a few contributions, but his mind was not dedicated to the subject. McCoy was simply bored, kicking back his third wine of the night.

Suddenly, Joel stopped talking in the middle of his sentence, and his face turned white as a sheet.

"Joel?" McCoy and Scotty said simultaneously.

"I can't feel him," he muttered with a trembling voice. "I can't feel Crow. Normally I know when he's close, but he's just...gone."

"Cannae tell what he was doin'?" Scotty asked.

"N-no," Joel said. "Our connection doesn't work like that. I...oh God..."

At this point, the man started to hyperventilate and slump over the table. McCoy immediately ran to assist. He picked up a clean napkin and wet it in a water glass to dab Joel's forehead while leaning him back.

"Has this broken connection ever happened before?" Spock asked, showing muted concern.

There was no answer.

"Let him be, Spock," McCoy said. "Those robots are like his kids. I know if my daughter was missing, I'd be freaking out, too."

"Joel!" came Mike's voice from behind Spock. Mike raced to his husband's side and grabbed his hand. He then turned to McCoy. "What happened?"

"Out of nowhere, he said he couldn't feel Crow anymore, then he passed out."

Now Mike's face went white. "Oh shit."

"What is it?" Scotty asked, genuinely concerned. "Did ye find Crow?"

"No, but we did find some other...oh Jeeze." The blonde man ran his hand through his hair, looking distraught. "What did that bastard do?"

"What bastard?" McCoy said. "What did you find?"

Just then, Joel stirred. As soon as his eyes met Mike's, he grabbed the other man's shoulders as if his life depended on it. The cool demeanor of the last few hours was gone and replaced with panic. Joel trembled as Mike held him close and tried to comfort him by rubbing his back.

"He's gone, Mike. He's gone.

"I know, love. We'll find him. Don't worry."

"What could have...what did I..."

"We don't know what happened," Mike whispered. "But I think I've found someone..."

"Servo!" Joel shouted. "Where's Servo?"

Mike gently ran his fingers through Joel's hair and said, "Servo's fine. You can still feel him, right?"

Joel nodded.

"Good. He's just keeping an eye on Dr..." Mike stopped and bit his tongue. Joel raised his eyebrows in question. "Dr. Forrester."

Joel shot to his feet. "Take me to him." The panicked cast of earlier quickly became savage.

"Wait," McCoy said rising to his feet and holding out his hands in a placating gesture. "Are we talking about the Dr. Forrester who shot you into space?"

"One and the same," Mike sighed. "I guess I should start believing in jinxes now, or at least the Beetlejuice..."

"Take me to him!" Joel repeated, firmer this time.

"Hey, calm down," Mike said with a hand on Joel's shoulder. He then turned to Spock. "I think the three of you might want to come, too."

"Why?" McCoy asked.

Mike closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Spock noted he appeared stressed, and overwhelmed with the multitude of developments which had come in a short time. "What I need to show you has nothing to do with us, and it might be the most important thing you'll see tonight."

oOOOo

The Betazoids seemed intrigued about the unusual group crossing the room, but did not interfere. Spock sensed a slight fear in them about Joel and Mike, although he was not sure why. This had probably been the most unusual group of beings he had encountered, but they did not seem dangerous.

Then again, maybe their telepathic hosts saw something in Joel and Mike that humans or Vulcans could not. Maybe the men themselves were not even aware of it.

McCoy led both Spock and Scotty into an adjacent hallway which was lit with a soft white light. The conversation within immediately commanded Spock's attention.

"Hey, have you heard the one about the vampire and the monkey?" came a voice which was clearly Tom Servo's. The cheer of the potential joke was obviously forced.

"Stop telling jokes, please," came an annoyed - and very distinct - voice. Spock immediately stopped before going any further. He would know that melodic tone anywhere.

Judging by the shocked look on both McCoy's and Scotty's faces, they had heard and recognized the voice as well. All three Enterprise men ran ahead of Joel to the turn in the hall. There was a silent, staring man in the corner, and across the hall was the distinct seated form of James Kirk.

"Wha...Jim?" McCoy whispered, the blood draining from his face. His jaw fell open as he looked toward the ghostly visage of his friend. His hair was much darker, his skin was pale with a web of blue veins stretched around his head. The most ominous feature was the pair of blood-red irises whose deep color was apparent even from their distance.

McCoy immediately looked to Spock. As predicted, the Vulcan's remaining emotional controls were insufficient to cover the look of disbelief. Spock knew his expression was transparent, and he did not care. Nothing else mattered but the man he thought dead.

The elation which should have taken place at this moment did not come. Something was wrong about the captain's apparent return. They had found no body on Alpha Virginis II, so there was no concrete proof he had died. That said, this was still not the same man who went down to the planet.

McCoy's hand subtly touched his forearm in a show of support. Spock flinched as his concentration wavered due to the feelings of reassurance and confusion coming from McCoy. Scotty was too fixated on the sight to notice them.

"Captain," Scotty said with a breathy tone. Kirk looked up to meet the utterance of his title, and visibly relaxed.

"Thank God," Kirk said as he got to his feet. "This guy told me you were all here, but I didn't believe it. He keeps saying I'm a vampire. What the hell is he on about?"

McCoy and Spock looked at each other, then to Scotty. "I'm probably going to need my...med kit...to examine him," the doctor said, his mind reeling.

"I would have Spock be the first to approach," Servo said. "The captain says he's hungry, and if you know anything about vampires..."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Kirk said. "Are you saying I'm going to attack my friends? That's ridiculous."

"Vampires?" McCoy sighed, directing his gaze to Servo. "Of all the bunk I've heard in my life..."

"Eh, don't be so quick to dismiss legends, Len," Scotty said. "If we have learned anything in our travels, it's that all legends come from somewhere."

"He's right," Mike said, startling McCoy. "You'd like to think the scary things you heard about as a kid weren't real. Unfortunately, I can guarantee, quite a few of them do come from somewhere."

"But vampires are physically impossible," McCoy said. "Spock! Back me up on this."

Spock did not answer. He did not often become overwhelmed since his mind could process information faster than ten humans combined. However, as was frequently the case with being around James Kirk, emotions were overflowing and dulling the cognitive circuits. The addition of the baby was not helping.

The baby. She will have her father.

The small wave of bliss was impossible to stop. It took a great deal of deduction to beat it back. There was no certainty to this situation at all. Doubles of their crew had been made on many occasions. This could have been another one of those times. Making doubles appearing to be vampires was a remote possibility. True, there could have been blood consuming creatures who...

Spock's thoughts stopped short when he remembered the details of Kirk's disappearance. A man had died by having all the blood drained out of his body. It could not have been a coincidence that Jim now appeared as a "vampire" - a creature said to only consume blood. More data would have to be gathered in this turn of events, and Spock would have to work harder to control himself. If this man was not Jim, exposing emotional vulnerability could be deadly.

"Where is he?!"

All three men looked to the other corner to see Joel grabbing the catatonic man by the shoulders and shaking him. Mike ran up to him and grabbed his arm, trying to hold him back.

"He's not going to answer you!" Mike said in a forced calm.

"What's going on? Where's Crow?" Servo asked, now appearing concerned.

Joel took a deep breath and pushed himself to his feet. "If you had actually looked for him instead of farting around you would have found him by now."

"Hey," Mike said indignantly. "That's not fair. We're worried about Crow, too. Maybe you could try to heal Forrester..."

"I can't help catatonia," Joel said with conspicuous tears in his eyes. The rage of the last few minutes seemed to instantly fade, and despair took its place.

"Spock," McCoy whispered. "I'll tend to Jim so Servo can be with his family. It looks like they're going through a rough time."

"Doctor, you heard Mr. Servo's warning."

"Yeah, but he needs to be checked out. I have to know if this man is Jim or not. Not to mention, this 'vampire' thing intrigues me."

"Dr. Forrester needs to be examined as well to be sure what Joel says is correct. I will be sure Jim is safe for you and Mr. Scott to approach."

"What if he goes after ye?" Scotty asked.

"Do you gentlemen realize I'm right here?" Kirk sighed. "I'm not going to attack you. I don't know why you're believing this stranger over me."

Spock was a bit perplexed by this attitude. Jim was not normally one to be offended by caution.

"I will attend to Jim for right now, Doctor. Mr. Scott, please join Dr. McCoy and help Dr. Forrester."

"I'm coming with ye, Spock," Scotty insisted. "I need to see this vampire thing for myself. I haven't seen anyone else on the ship as read on Terran legends as me."

"Mr. Scott, even if this is a true vampire, the legends of your ancestors likely do not present an accurate picture. In addition, we are not on Terra. The possibility of Earth vampires on Betazed is incredibly remote."

"So is the chance of Jim showing up twenty light years from where we last saw him," Scotty countered. Spock nodded in acknowledgment of his point.

"Look, Spock," McCoy said. "I'll see to this Forrester guy, but I say let Scotty come if he wants to. You might need an extra pair of eyes to identify the captain. Besides, if he attacks - which I doubt - you'll be strong enough to offer protection."

"Why do you not think he will attack, Doctor?"

"Because he would have tried to get to Mike and Joel first. They may be powerful, but if this bloodlust is really so strong that he does not recognize friends, he would have gone for it anyway."

Spock nodded. "I concede to your point. However, I also concede our new friends might have some insight into this situation. I will allow Mr. Scott to come, but to be safe, he will stay behind me."

"Fair enough," McCoy said with some hesitation. He then leaned in to subtly speak in Spock's ear. "If I'm wrong, don't forget about the baby's red blood."

Spock felt like he had been slapped in the face. Yet again, a glaringly obvious consideration had skipped his attention. A tiny spark of insecurity made itself known - one which told him that if he missed something as important as protecting his child, what kind of parent would he be?

"Mr. Spock?" Scotty asked, appearing eager to begin the sojourn. Spock nodded and led him to the spot where Kirk - or his double - stood. In an uncharacteristic move, Spock folded his hands in front of him as opposed to behind.

Kirk looked incredibly restless, but gave a small smile when he saw the two men approach. Servo looked ever more agitated, focusing his attention on his parents holding each other in the corner.

"They don't have any idea where Crow is?" Servo asked.

"Not yet," Spock answered. "However, we...

What felt like a pillar of rock hit Spock in the side and hurled him into the opposite wall. A heavy metal object - presumedly Tom Servo - collided with his shoulder, knocking it out of joint. Spock's good arm immediately curled around his stomach as he slumped to the floor.

"Scotty!" McCoy shouted.

Spock schooled his pain and looked toward where he had been standing mere nanoseconds earlier. Scotty was writhing on the floor, and Jim had him pinned down with an iron grip. The most disturbing sight was Kirk's jaw tightly ensconced around the engineer's neck.


End file.
